


Stars in the Water

by SageMasterofSass



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, a little angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMasterofSass/pseuds/SageMasterofSass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly bonded couple Jim and Spock take a trip to visit Jim's childhood home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars in the Water

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a picture of bio luminescent plankton on tumblr and...well, this was born! It's not plankton but algae will do just fine. 
> 
> Also, this was beta'd by the lovely GreendaleHumanBeing who knows nothing of Star Trek but agreed to read for me anyways.

The farmhouse before them is old and sagging; the front porch does not look safe to walk across, much less support the weight of the two rocking chairs placed there, and there are several shutters left hanging on only one hinge, creaking in the soft wind that blows across the flat landscape.

Beside him Jim is still, azure eyes unreadable. Spock doesn’t have to look at him to tell how he’s feeling anymore though, and the revelation sends a faint thrill through him. He knows it must have transferred through the bond because an answering wave of amusement washes over him not a few seconds later. He tears his gaze away from the old building to focus on his t’hy’la because though he feels amusement there is also melancholy and nostalgia there.

It is to be expected; this is Jim’s childhood home, and from what he has told Spock it was a turbulent, difficult childhood at that.

“C’mon,” Jim says, and he links his fingers with Spock’s, sending another shiver down the half-vulcan’s spine. He leads them around the side of the house, to the backyard where the grass is over grown and an outcrop of trees pushes eagerly at the property line.

Jim doesn’t pause, he pulls Spock along until the shadows of the trees fall over them and then he’s following a trail visible only to himself. “I spent a lot of time out here when I was younger. It was my escape from the real world whenever I needed it,” he murmurs. The emotions thrumming under his skin have quieted and Spock is not surprised by the peaceful effect this place has on his mate if what he says is true.

Above them, though the canopy hides it well, Spock can tell the sun is setting. It casts their surroundings in warm oranges and yellows, the shadows deep and the air cool. They are alone but for bird song and the call of several distinct species of Earth insects.

The walk takes them exactly thirty three minutes and seven seconds, during which Jim stops on occasion, mumbling to himself as he crouches to look at the ground or smoothes his palm over a faded cut in the bark of a tree. Other than these mutterings they are quiet, Jim a somber but happy presence in the back of Spock’s mind. It is not altogether an unpleasant journey.

Their destination, it seems, is a small pond. Trees grow upon its edges, roots disappearing into unseen depths and it is on one of these roots that Jim perches, dropping Spock’s hand in favor of trailing his fingers faintly through the unmoving water. It is not very large but the ripples Jim creates do not reach the opposite bank.

“We’ll have to wait a little while,” he hums, glancing up at Spock, face open and clear and smiling. Spock inclines his head and sits beside his t’hy’la to wait.

He does not realize he has fallen into a meditative trance until he feels Jim gently pull at their bond. It is a soft touch, a tentative one, and once again he feels himself warm at the thought that it exists at all. That Jim is his.

Spock’s eyes open and immediately find Jim in the dark. It has been approximately twenty eight minutes and five seconds since they arrived and the sun has already set, but his mate’s face is bright despite this. He quickly finds the source of the light to be some sort of bioluminescent plant growing in the pond.  They are tiny blue and white pinpricks scattered haphazardly across the surface of the water, clustered into neat, spiraling formations here and chaotic, messy twirls there. They leave behind glowing trails as they move slowly, unhurriedly, the water a black background to their dance.

 _It is the universe,_ Spock thinks, and then he glances back at Jim. Jim, who is staring fondly down at the water, balanced on the balls of his feet, knees to his chest, chin resting on his folded forearms. There is a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and the light from the pond erases all flaws, all the day to day imperfections of his skin and expression.

 _He is the universe,_ Spock thinks instead.

Then Jim lifts his gaze, the blue of his eyes the same color as the plants below. “This is where I fell in love with the stars,” he says.


End file.
